Bruce Wayne

Tokyo, Japan – A Luxury Shopping Mall

Bruce Wayne had no idea why he was here.

Selina had dragged him into another one of her whims—something about "experiencing the world"—but it had quickly turned into her experience alone. One moment, she was by his side. The next? Gone. Along with his credit card.

Now he was walking alone, hands in his pockets, navigating through the unfamiliar sights of a high-end Tokyo shopping mall. The city’s energy was loud but controlled. Expensive. Towering glass storefronts gleamed under the artificial lighting, displaying the latest fashion trends.

Bruce barely gave them a glance until one particular advertisement caught his eye.

A massive poster hung outside a clothing store, featuring a young male model in an eccentric outfit—dyed, messy hair, layered accessories, and loose, stylishly "unkempt" clothing. There was a softness to the look, but the attitude screamed punk. It was a contradiction.

Bruce frowned. What is this? The guys in the poster looked… well. The word that came to mind was “gay.” The women, though? He had to admit—they looked good. But who was he to judge? He wasn’t exactly an expert in fashion.

He shook his head and kept walking.

Then, bam.

Someone collided into him—hard enough to make him take half a step back.

Bruce’s sharp instincts kicked in, his hand automatically reaching for his wallet. Still there. Good. But the person who hit him didn’t even stop. They just… rolled away?

His eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the culprit—a high schooler wearing roller shoes, the kind that could switch between skates and normal soles. They were dressed just like the people in the poster. A gyaru? Up close, flashy clothes, and an air of not caring about anything.

But what got to Bruce was the look they gave him before rolling off.

A obvious once-over. A silent judgment.

Bruce reacted instantly, his hand darting out to grab the back of their jacket.

“Oi.”

The teenager barely flinched, turning their head slightly.